The Sylvangloam. Just about as opposite as a body could get from Brookfell, with pristine woodlands and strangely glowing mushrooms. Plants that evaded categorization. Pokemon that probably hadn't been caught and indexed yet.
All in all, it was, to most, beautiful.
For a bonafide city-dweller, such a place may as well have been a foreign planet.
Still, Hrist could feel an almost-rhythm in the way the boughs swayed above. The lack of the common chatter of the city, the lau...
